Dionysus Retreat, Sex Club Banquet

At 3:30 a.m., Joan and Brandi caught a cab home to the Upper East Side. It was 40 blocks but in the wee hours of the morning, they knew they'd have almost no time to talk before arriving at the doorman who served both of their buildings after midnight.

Joan spoke first, "What d'ya think? Did we do the right thing to join the Dionysus Retreat tonight?"

"Your call?" replied Brandi. "At one level, the right question is, 'Did Brock and Stuart do the right thing?' Wonder if they've made up their minds about having us invited...?

Joan interrupted her in mid-question, "You mean you don't know yet? Stuart hasn't told you? They had nothing to do with our receiving the invitation!"

"No way!" Brandi blurted out. "You've got to be kidding? Stuart had no role in my joining a sex club and coming tonight --27 times. Oh wow! What about my marriage, Missy?" she asked Joan,

More than a little peeved to be learning about this from her best friend just now, Brandi got a worried look on her face. Putting her head in her hands, Brandi continued, "Joan, he saw everything right up until we left with Sonia! He saw me having wild sex with six black guys and WhiteZilla!"

"It O.K." consoled Joan. "I'm sure the Brock and Stuart are fine with what unfolded; they're probably itching to hear us relate everything that happened after we left that they didn't see."

"I hope you're right, but I really don't think so!" Brandi said in a pitiful tone beginning to sob. "Stuart took his sexy wife to the Dionysus Retreat and had to leave without me who he now probably perceives as a slut! At the least, I should have gone home with him after the banquet!"

"Listen, we can get through this," said Joan. "You'll see. Tell you what. You know how much Brock hates being waked up in the middle of the night. Suppose I come home with you and help you and Stuart work things out. I believe there's no problem, but I'll come up with you and then go home and meet Brock before he goes to work out at the gym."

As the cab turned off Seventh Avenue into East 92nd, Jacob was taking a little breather outside the doorway to Brandi's building. He snubbed out his cigarette and stepped toward the slowing cab. The first thing he saw emerging as the cab door opened was an incredibly long pair of black vinyl boots rising well up above the knee. As doorman on duty for the whole block, Jacob was a little dubious. Few residents came home this late, at least not in this upscale neighborhood. But when he saw the gorgeous big-breasted Mrs. Brandi Westerholm sliding out to teeter atop the stiletto red heels of those incredible boots, he was glad for his decision. She was by far the hottest woman in the building. Many of the building staff talked about it. They all had experienced chance encounters with the 5' 9" former prom queen, The Cougar as they called her, and it enlivened their otherwise boring days. Now it was Jacob's turn! Given her shaky stance, Jacob offered his hand to help Brandi out of the street and onto the high curb. She refused, saying "Jacob, please give my friend a hand."

Spinning smartly about, he saw a second woman, identically-dressed, swinging her legs up to slide across the wide Chevy Impala leather seat. As she did so, the leopard skin coat rode up her white boots, then up her bare thighs, and Jacob soon saw a crotchless monokini framing a hairless pussy. Jacob couldn't help staring. Joan still was wearing no panties! Stunned by her gaping hole and surrounding distended pussy lips like he'd never seen, Jacob was transfixed. Seeing the unfolding spectacle, Brandi intoned,

"Avert your eyes, Jacob. Mrs Hockaday's had a little too much to drink!"

That of course didn't exactly explain the bare gaping pussy. Brandi stepped off the curb and offered Joan her own hand. Embarrassed that he been caught staring inappropriately at a tenant's late night guest, Jacob double-timed over to the front entrance. Summoning all his strength to swing open the double-wide brass doors, he managed to step to the side just as the two leopard-skin coats swept by. Fearing for his job, Jacob avoided making eye contact with Mrs. Westerholm and breathed easier when the two visions of abject sexuality stepped aboard a waiting elevator and disappeared from view.

Brandi unlocked her 8th floor apartment, and she and Joan slipped quietly into a darkened living room. But before they could drop their coats, they noticed the bright lights emanating from the master bedroom. Tiptoeing down the hall and peeking around the partially-opened bedroom door, they spied Stuart sitting up in bed reading the novel Brandi had left on his bedside table. Diaries of a New Orleans Madame was something Sonia Drapier had sent to both wives in order to introduce their husbands to a sex club owned and operated by women. A long email about the book then followed. Neither Brandi nor Joan had been able to figure out how the Dionysus Retreat got their email addresses. After discussing the matter, of course, both women did just as they been instructed, placing the paperback on their husband's pillow of their marital beds as the last task before leaving for the initiation events.

Just as intended, Stuart had come back from the Retreat and begun reading it. As best as they could determine, he was half-way through the racy scenes. Naked to the waist and sporting a rock-hard dick, Stuart was wearing the transparent Speedo Brandi had bought him in the hotel gift shop while the husbands were checking out in St. Lucia. Clearly visible thru the transparent nylon, Stuart's erection was huge by the standards of the Westerholm's bedroom. Unlike the wife-initiates who had orgasmed more times than they could count in the last couple of hours, Stuart had obviously saved himself for his wife's return. Apparently, he intended, if Brandi agreed, to have some 'morning delight' when she came home in the wee hours.

"Brandi, are you still really worried about all the sexing we got last night whilst Stuart and Brock got 'stiffed?' inquired Joan.

"You know I am! I truly am," implored Brandi.

"I've got an idea how to make it all better! Do you trust me?"

You know I do," whispered Brandi as Stuart peered toward the voices he detected in the hallway.

"Will you trust me with your husband? "

Brandi hesitated for half a heartbeat, but then quickly nodded, authorizing whatever Joan had in mind. This pattern had repeated itself dozens of times since their days as college roommates.

"O.K. let's make one of his fantasies come true and give him a 'roll in the hay' with not one but two gorgeous women! Just follow my lead."

Brandi was stunned but before she could raise any objection, Joan was already moving through the doorway into Stuart's view.

"Well, my man Stuart, what do you think of your prom queen Brandi now? Is she sexually liberated enough for you?"

"Joan??? Where's Brandi? Oh Brandi...hi! I've been thinking about you and getting more than a little worried," he replied.

Well, Stu, looks to me like you've been thinking about something else. Look at that big boy popping up out of your shorts!" said Joan with approval.

"Um, well. Yes, I guess I have been fantasizing the last few minutes," replied Stuart.

Joan continued, "Stuart, Brandi and I have talked! How would you like to make what Brock tells me is one of your fantasies come true and have a threesome with both of us, right here, right now?"

Thinking she might be kidding and suspecting a mental trap, Stuart turned to his wife and asked expectantly, "Brandi, are you fine with this?"

"Not only am I fine with it, hun, Joan and I have been practicing for this for weeks! We didn't know whether it would be you or Brock first. Looks like you're the lucky one!"

"Well then drop those coats and get over here, right this very minute!" commanded Stuart, taking charge at least temporarily.